


It’s (Almost) Real Enough

by theselittlethings



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Canon Universe, Does This Count As Vaginal Sex?, Don't Think About It Too Much It's Just Smut, Established Hidden Relationship, Except I'm Really Not Sorry, Experimenting With The Force, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), I'm Sorry George Lucas, I'm Sorry Rian Johnson, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Mutual Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shared sensations, Smut, and I mean it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-02
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-06-01 02:32:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15133163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theselittlethings/pseuds/theselittlethings
Summary: “Intellectually [Rey] knew that one of them would balk at their arrangement eventually, either by catching too many feelings or suspicions. But she had not anticipated his pressing the matter so soon.”AND/ORIs it possible to use the Force to fuck someone from across the room? Let’s find out.





	It’s (Almost) Real Enough

Rey flops down on the side of her narrow cot with a sigh. She kicks off her boots and brings her arms above her head, stretching the worn muscles after a long day rebuilding the mess hall after a particularly bad blizzard a couple nights ago. While most of the Resistance base on Hoth is underground, a rather large gale of wind threw a heap of snow on the roof forcefully enough to fall through. The domed-roofed barracks were able to withstand the storm and Rey sits in her tiny curved room, looking out onto the haphazardly-hung metal shelves above the solitary chair on the opposite wall.

She wiggles her toes underneath the two pairs of socks she has to wear in the miserable cold, her body still not quite adjusted to living in this new climate. She sheds her outer layers of doubled jackets and thin self-heating cloths that she found in an abandoned storage area. Her entire body feels lighter once the extra weight is removed and she brings a foot up onto her knee to free her feet further. The heated lights are a relief on her hands & neck and makes the dark cloth of her shirt feel warm against her shoulders’ skin.

Rey closes her eyes in resignation when all the air in the room begins to pool and drop. It’s a familiar sensation, one that has both excited and unnerved her in the months spent here after Crait — as if the entire galaxy comes to a pause when the bond opens with Kylo Ren. Sometimes he appears in the back of the room during meetings, across the way in the mess hall, or laying beside her on her cot with his arm clutched around her while he sleeps. When she looks up he sits in the small chair, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees,

“You seem cold,” he greets, nodding to her doubled socks.

Rey raises an eyebrow. Despite what has unfolded between them she remains wary of revealing any potential insights into the Resistance’s location. Whatever unspoken agreement they may have in the other’s arms doesn’t take precedence over the fact that they’re enemies on the battlefield, or at least it hasn’t quite yet. Remarking on her climate in any way could narrow down the First Order’s search, even a small off-hand remark about the temperature of her room.

She’s managed to avoid discussing her location almost entirely, in spite of the growing frequency of nighttime moments when all she can hear are her shuddered breaths pouring into his ear in her quiet room. She’s wondered if someone would discover her secret eventually, but as far as she can tell no one has picked up on it yet. (The closest being the one time she yelped when Finn knocked on her door for an emergency meeting when her legs were hooked on Kylo’s shoulders; she pressed her hand on his face when she said, “Just a minute!”) She retreats from the question, just as she has done when asked similar ones previously,

“I’m fine.” She looks back down to remove the socks from both of her feet. “Going back out at some point soon.”

He doesn’t respond, which is fairly typical. They don’t speak as often as they probably should given the increased frequency of their physical interactions. Rey holds onto this as her excuse for why she isn’t committing high treason by entertaining him in her bed these past few weeks…. They aren’t _really_ talking a great deal more than they had before when their continued bond merely consisted of enduring the other quietly. But she knows the silent conversation will need to be recited aloud eventually.

Rey crosses her arms, unsure whether he expects her to speak or not. “And you seem typically morose.”

“I’m not,” he replies with a glimmer of concealed knowledge flickering over his gaze. It’s an expression Rey recognizes from Jakku, the one some other scavengers wore when they hid valuable finds in sealed pockets.

Rey is not intimidated and quips, “ _Atypically_ morose then —”

“Meet me on Ison in three standard days,” Kylo interrupts. “I’ll be staying there a week.”

Her entire body stops when her stomach seems to fall through the floor. Ison neighbors Hoth. He must know where she is and her chest feels flattened under the weight of the realization that she’s revealed just enough at some point to — 

Unless it’s just a coincidence. “Ison? Isn’t that a bit far-flung?”

She’s surprised to hear some hesitation in his words before he speaks. “Not for you.”

Rey parts her lips to ask how he knows before closing them again, reaching for this final opportunity to sidestep once more. “Why should I go? Will there be a parley or an assassination attempt upon arrival?”

“Neither.” He bites the inside of his cheek. “I intend to go alone.”

Rey leans forward in the room, her hands holding the edge of her bed when she repeats her prior inquiry. “And why should I go?”

“To be _with_ me,” he responds plainly, as if it should be obvious. “Instead of — Instead of like this.”

She covers her teeth with her lips when she takes some seconds to consider her response, trying to tamp down the flutter in her chest. Intellectually she knew that one of them would balk at their arrangement eventually, either by catching too many feelings or suspicions. But she had not anticipated his pressing the matter so soon. Their connections through the bond are just dreamlike enough to allow Rey to pretend this is fantasy still. Going to Ison risks making this something real, something that needs to be justified and explained and —

Rey glances to the floor, not wanting to betray her own desire to feel his skin beside hers rather than grazing across the muted sensations the intergalactic distances bring. But her leaving for a journey so suddenly would attract unwelcome questions. And she’s not sure how she would make it even if she were to agree to go.

“This… this is fine,” she lies.

“No.” His denial is firm. “Maybe for you. But not for me.”

A hushed impression of leather runs over her hair, brushes over her cheek & down her jaw, and curls beneath her chin to trail down her neck. Kylo’s gloved hand moves in her periphery to direct it with a certain familiar ease developed over the time they’ve spent experimenting the capabilities & boundaries of the Force with one another. Her eyes close and her chest sinks again, this time pulling a heaviness to her stomach before settling and spreading between her legs. The palmprint of a second hand envelopes her left breast, the tiny perky bud of flesh easily disappearing underneath it. It clutches in to take a better hold before sweeping away, unfurling the initial embers of warmth in her thighs.

She hopes her breath remains steady as she speaks, the tops of her cheeks flushing with the tiny shame she always feels when she realizes how easy it is for him to arouse her. Sometimes Rey wonders if it’s a consequence of having a deep connection through the Force. At other times it feels as if it’s something more primitive & crass that makes her miss his scent and want him inside her.

“Ben, look —”

“Look at what?” he asks, pressure grazing down over the fabric of her trousers between her legs.

It fills below the cloth to feather into the boundaries of her underwear to peek beneath the surface and find the fledgling strands of wetness that the suggestion of his hands draws from within her. She knows from her own experiences that there is no tactile sensation of hair against Kylo’s fingers when he manifests his touch upon her like this. Instead he only senses the gradual warm that results as it burrows through him as it does her — the vibrations of her perceptions flittering over his body as if held up to a mirror.

The pressure creeps further to unfurl within her, taking on the blurred form of thickened fingers to slip up inside her. Her knees fall open almost involuntarily, as if parting them further will allow more to come in. She sighs along with the strumming of a playful wriggle within her narrowed entrance before stiffening suddenly and correcting her posture. Kylo stops to look at her directly when she speaks, the detached form seated & still inside her and paused in its hairbreadth movements.

She manages to reply, not wanting to elaborate on all the reasons for why she says what follows. “I — I’m not sure I should go.”

The low pitch of his voice rumbles through her chest like a creeping tide when he pushes further, “Not sure? About what?”

An air lifts below her hands to prompt them up, a lightened touch of suggestion to bring them to the waistbands of her trousers. She acquiesces despite her hesitation and he nods in a silent request to ask her to shimmy them down. Rey shakes her head, but does not move her hands away.

“I’m not going,” she determines aloud. “You can come home but I’m not going to Ison.”

He glances away towards the door he cannot see, and the form inside her dissipates when he drops his hands to his sides. Her expression softens as she shifts to rub her thighs together, not gaining much bearing with her pants still on. She finds herself moving to slip out of them despite her denial and he turns back to stare as she reveals her skin, keeping his eyes steady while piecing through this contradiction.

“You don’t fear my mounting an attack without your distraction?”

Her trousers fall to the floor and she raises an eyebrow, opening her legs to see his gaze settle between them to the thin cloth of her underwear. She resists commenting on the unintended double entendre and instead considers the answer to his question. Rey moves back to sit further up on the bed with her back against the wall, knees bent with her feet flat on the mattress. Her hand settles on her stomach, fingers glancing below the band of her panties in an attempt to change the course of the conversation between them. Rey is surprised by how easy it is to settle on her answer.

“No, I don’t. I’m not scared of you.”

“You are.” He smirks and leans forward in his chair. “Or else you’d let me fuck you for real.”

Rey rolls her eyes with a huff, recalls biting his neck and bouncing on his cock in that very chair only a few days ago. 

“It’s real enough.” She runs her hand below her panties and brushes the side of her second finger over her clit, the calloused line of skin igniting a hurried tightness inside her. Her eyes close when she flicks over again and sighs with the vibrating tension she builds between them, pictures a tether between her nerves and his. “Come here and I’ll… I’ll show you. But I don’t have a lot of time.”

This has never failed to silence him before but it does now.

“Real enough,” he repeats, head leaning back on the wall to look up at the ceiling. She sees his hand creep up closer to his crotch before letting it fall back to his side, as if he had to remind himself to recoil against his kneejerk response. “It’s not the same. You know that.”

He’s right; she does. And she dismisses it again, dipping two of her fingers into her entrance before sliding them back up to circle her wetness over her small nub of nerves above it. She closes her eyes and shudders briefly, opening them back up to see Kylo shift his weight in the chair as he removes his gloves. He leans to the left to set them down on an unseen surface and they disappear as they leave his grasp. 

“That hasn’t stopped you before.” She scoots forward to discard her underwear, shakes them from her ankle to fall onto the floor. “Come here.”

She leans back against the wall with her bent knees splayed open, feet flat on the mattress as she opens two fingers inside her like a scissor to stretch herself open. He stares openly between her legs, his lips parted slightly as his own hands migrate to his trousers’ fly. His fingers fumble with the buttons against the bulging fabric, and a string wavers in their bond as a tension through Rey’s chest. She isn’t self-conscious displaying herself in this manner, especially if it halts any further discussion of _meeting._ That is one boundary she swore she would not cross, despite the others she’s flouted already.

He hitches down his pants above his knees and sits up straighter against the chair when he starts stroking his hard cock. His hand jerks up & down, his thumb rubbing over and against the tip as he does. She exhales sharply when the sensation unravels down her spine and heightens the relief of her own movements in and over herself. Her body sighs with the memory of when they discovered they could manipulate each other’s perceptions like this, her eyes wide in the dark night of her room when she bit her bottom lip and groaned heavily like an empty lustful creature. His other hand twitches forward on his thigh and Rey makes a similar sound when a detached form runs up inside to fill her.

“Come here,” she says again, imagining a picture that she presents through their bond.

His eyes close when _she shows him crawling towards her on her cot, holding her shoulders to push down her down. He pays no mind to the covered window, holds his hands against her knees to press them back and bend her against herself beneath him. He looks down to watch himself push inside her, the shaft disappearing into her body as she shakes in small movements around him — he pulls out and admires her wetness glazed on his cock before he shoves hard inside again. …_

“No,” he says, keeping up his hand’s pace. He watches Rey breathe in time with his strokes, the pace of her fingers pumping inside herself increasing to match his. “This is real enough.”

The form inside her expands and resettles, dragging back and forth as resistance against the more immediate sensation of her own hands. She lets go of her reluctance with a soft moan as she focuses on the conflicting forces filling her confluently, tightening her cunt against only her fingers when it feels like so much more inside. She resists the temptation to invite him over once more and closes her eyes to let him show her —

_... Show her face tensing as she draws closer, lets her body move with the rhythm of his thrusts and lets her mind wander to pretend he’s someone else, anyone other than this monster that looms over her and overwhelms her tiny body beneath him. The room is cold and black, spartan and unyielding, and Rey sees herself as a slip of light cut across darkness as he curls his hand around her neck and closes his fingers in to smother her moans. She swallows the first syllable of his name in her throat and tilts her hips forward, rocking up against him when she sighs into her release. …_

Rey pries her eyes open to stare into Kylo as he touches himself, peering between her open legs to focus on the movements of her fingers over her clit. He shudders with her when she slides over the slightly swelling nub; her thighs tense when he builds closer and slows his pace.

“Come here,” she whimpers, both earnestly and with some exaggeration.

The movement of his hips change and a sudden chill elicits goosebumps down Rey’s arms when the shape inside her changes. The perception dragging within her becomes more pointed & smooth — she gasps when a visible shift of his legs correspond with a similar shift inside her. His breaths stutter as he thrusts up into his hand in time with the shape pressing up into where she ends. She clenches up and moans when she feels him react, swept into the reverberation it unfolds between them. She knows he feels it through their bond when she ruts her hips against her hands, her knees falling further open as if he’s truly there filling her. She both guides his movements and lets him read her body, bringing him to where she wants it most.

They maintain grinding against the other from opposite ends of the room, but it’s more real than when they’ve played the Force upon the other previously. There’s no lost tactile sensation, no disconnect between them, and Rey can even see his cock shining with her slickness underneath his hand. This… is new.

“Kriff, Rey —”

He doesn’t manage much more and she knows he’s swept under the same way she is, falling into the incongruously overwhelming sensation of playing with himself & fucking another at the same time. She’s more aroused than alarmed by the novelty, panting against her entering fingers and his phantomed movements.

“Come — Come to Ison,” he implores. “Let me do this when I fuck you, feel me come inside your tight little cunt twice.”

Her body aches around his words, wanting so badly to feel it too. She imagines biting his shoulder and tasting his skin, grasping hard onto his arms and asking him to stop her breaths. She still says otherwise.

“No… I’m not coming.”

He smirks and leans down in the chair, she sees one of his legs bouncing with a nervous energy. “Is that a challenge?”

Rey resists rolling her eyes and straightens up against the wall for traction when he starts pushing into her harder. She coasts further up to her edge, feels herself damp against her hands and the warmth running up between her thighs. She doesn’t mean to gasp when she does, doesn’t want him to leave knowing he has this power over her body, the ability to give her what she wants but leave her wanting more. He reads her suggestion and shifts his movement, smiling when he elicits a moan from her lips.

“Yes, right there, don’t stop —” she says aloud.

He groans and tells her he’s getting close, her own sounds raising to a higher volume than intended. She closes her eyes and says she’s almost there, her fingers slick with her own arousal when she presses down over her clit. She sees his face over hers, looking down to where they join with his jaw clenched and his hand around her throat. She starts saying his name aloud when she crests over and desperately seeks his skin on hers to feel him react when she comes hard around him. She opens her eyes to see his own features strained as he rides it with her, his unused hand gripping his thigh.

“Ben —”

“Rey, come to Ison,” she hears him plead as he edges back, slowing his hips until he hears her whine. She hears him shuffle his feet. “Kriff — it’s not enough, Rey, please —”

She rocks her hips to make up for his stalled movements, takes it upon herself to build up and forward despite his trying to draw her back. “No, I’m… I’m not going,” she insists despite the rush between her legs insisting otherwise. Her shoulders graze against the wall when her breath stops again, when Kylo drags it out from beneath her.

“I need to fill you up — Hold you down and feel you for real, Rey, kriff, I can’t stop thinking about it, about coming inside you, please…” He starts back again and presses into the same spot within as he did before, glancing up to see Rey’s face scrunch up and change. “Seeing you writhe around me and bounce on my cock and hold it all in when I come inside you —”

She gains back quickly after flirting so close before. She doesn’t know if he intends to drive her over with his words, but it works nonetheless.

“Let me have you for real —”

“Yes, I want it,” she relents, “Kriff, please, Ben —”

She swallows his name when she clenches up and releases, a swimming haze running over her as her thighs shudder and her cunt feels heavy. She’s too wet and hot to sit still, starts panting as the vibrations of his own end move down her body, finds herself saying _“please”_ when it’s as if she comes again. She knows she’s being too loud when she moans, momentarily dismisses the possibility of footsteps wandering in the halls. She doesn’t conceal her gaping stare as he spurts in his hand and his body seems to jerk in tiny movements when he does. He looks up to lock eyes with her as they both steady their breathing and fuzzy nerves, trying to compute and sort through whatever it was that just happened —

The unlocked door swings open and slams against the wall.

“Rey, are you okay? Who are you talking to in here?”

Rey removes her hands and closes her legs with a squeak, looking to the entrance to see Finn’s startled expression. He glances down to her naked legs and shifts his stance, biting his lip and suddenly scratching his scalp.

“Oh, Rey, I’m so sorry, I… uh….” Finn steps in to grab the doorknob, slowly shutting the door as he backs away. His eyes betray enough suspicion beneath his blushing embarrassment to raise some concern. Rey cannot bring herself to speak, blinks twice as Finn looks to the ground. He mutters once more, “I’ll — We have assembly in ten, I’ll see you there.”

A bead of sweat curls down Rey’s temple. She turns back to see an empty chair, as if Kylo hadn’t been there at all. She counts the beats of quiet exhales in her empty room. She’s both satisfied and concerned, sated and craving more, her mind turning over whether to fly to Ison so she can map his scent and cry out in his arms.

But it’s almost real enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. Thank you to my betas Kels & Elemie.
> 
> Every view, kudos, bookmark, and comment is greatly appreciated. Let me know if you'd be interested in reading more Force experimentation one-shots or if you have any fun ideas: find me on [Twitter](http://www.twitter.com/theselittlefics).
> 
> In the spirit of shameless self-promotion, consider checking out my long-read WIP if you like plot with your smut: [The Black Forest](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14400549/chapters/33255489)
> 
> Stay calm and love reylo :) Thanks again.


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